Kennedy: Ticks can't hide from Dr. Mommy

Kennedy: Ticks can't hide from Dr. Mommy

Last week she removed both a splinter and a tick from my 5-year-old son's body. (She is also expert in pulling teeth, trimming blisters, clipping toenails and treating open wounds.)

I, on the other hand, am the anesthesiologist. By that, I mean I'm in charge of distracting the patient with On Demand TV shows and Popsicles.

In normal families, I imagine flicking away splinters and ticks is considered routine body maintenance. But my kids are so high-strung that removing a splinter the size of a gnat's eyelash is like amputating a toe.

My 5-year-old son was in the back seat of the family car riding home from the swimming pool one day last week when he noticed a microscopic spot on his left index finger.

"WHAAAA, I'VE GOT A SPLINTER!" my younger son wailed. As a watchful parent, I couldn't help but notice that he had been feeling no pain until big brother got involved.

Suddenly, this tiny sliver of wood, barely visible to the naked eye, became the source of excruciating pain.

"Buddy, calm down," I said from the driver's seat. "When we get it home, Mommy will get it out."

"NOOOO!" he demanded, twisting and turning in his car seat. "IT WILL HURT! WHAAAA! I'VE GOT A SPLINTER! I'VE GOT A SPLINTER!"

Once at home, I had to talk him off an emotional cliff before he would allow his mother to look at his finger. He sat in my lap with one of my hands covering his eyes while his mother pinched his fingertip and surveyed the splinter under a table lamp.